


Disintegrate

by takenbynumbers



Series: We Are Chaos [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 10:34:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27469603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takenbynumbers/pseuds/takenbynumbers
Summary: Vincent is still getting to know his new partner and (mostly) superior.
Relationships: Vincent Valentine/Veld
Series: We Are Chaos [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007004
Kudos: 18





	Disintegrate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [j_marquis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_marquis/gifts).



> This came from a prompt of - VinVeld, first kiss.

After the first couple of missions together, Vincent starts to (minutely) relax around Veld. After all, just because Veld is his superior, it doesn’t mean they can’t be friends. Or something close to. He once read somewhere that the best workplace partners were the ones that could trust each other implicitly. Begrudging respect would only get one so far.

He could do without the constant criticisms. And yes, maybe he shouldn’t have let that one suspect get away, but he was just a _child._ Why did Shinra want with a kid, anyway? Either way, the investigation was a bomb. Literally. _That_ part was not Vincent's fault, no matter how much Veld ranted. How was he supposed to know the place would be rigged? It wasn't his duty to sweep the scene. 

Drinking together seems to help, Vincent notes quietly, raising a beer bottle to his lips as he watches Veld from the corner of his eye, talking to one of the bartenders. It's a nice place (comparatively) in Wall Market and mostly frequented by his co-workers. It's far out of the way that no one seems to bother them, and that works for Vincent. He's still too caught up in his head, wanting to make a _good_ impression on everyone without just relying on his skills in the field. 

"How're you doin'?" Veld suddenly drawls from somewhere behind him and he turns, flushing slightly his sudden appearance. 

"Fine and dandy," he murmurs in reply, taking a final swig of his beer and setting the empty bottle down on the table. Part of him wants to have a proper conversation beyond missions and techniques, but he's also not confident in being able to carry it beyond simple pleasantries. He watches as Veld makes a hand gesture to the bartender, who brings them another two bottles. It's the confidence he exudes, that Vincent seems drawn to the most. That he can command a team, a room, an _individual_ , and they just...follow him. Without question. Well, some questions. A lot if he's being honest. Still, they follow. 

Picking up the new bottle, he pushes his hair out of eyes, a nervous habit. Veld watches him, almost as intently as Vincent was doing to him, follows the movement of his fingers. He takes a chug of beer, mouth suddenly dry. "So, are you...doing anything tonight?" he finally asks, realising he's still being stared at. And it _is_ blatant staring. Veld's head tilts to the side at the question, as he drinks, contemplatively.

"Not tonight. Maybe another time." 

Vincent resists the urge to roll his eyes at the cryptic nature of the answer. Except, Veld sees something on his face, and laughs. It's warm, curls around Vincent, and makes him feel like he's the only person in the room. "Relax. I swear, I've never met anyone more uptight than you. No one's gonna fire you for having fun after hours, I promise." And Veld just puts his hand on Vincent's bicep as he says that and squeezes gently.

"I'm going to hold you to that," is all Vincent can manage to say as he downs the rest of his drink.

*  
  


Several more drinks and three shots later, and Vincent feels...good. Good enough to lean against Veld as they laugh stumble out of the pub, ties loose around their necks. It's the kind of comradery he's been hoping for, all jokes and good-natured ribbing. And maybe his hand lingers on Veld's lower back a little too long as they wander down the alleyway, but Veld doesn't say a word, just leans against Vincent a little more. At the mouth of the alley, he grabs Vincent, pushes him against the wall, and - 

It's sudden. Warm, chapped lips press against his, breath hot with fusel alcohol. Hands grip his shirt tightly, and the wall digs into his back, and it's nothing he's expecting. Stubble rasps harshly against his skin, and something in Vincent just snaps. He holds Veld just by his elbows, tilting his head as the kiss deepens, and he's too drunk for anything precise or seductive. Can't even think with Veld licking into his mouth, body pressing flush against his. He moans low in his throat, brings his hands up to cup Veld's face, his neck, wherever he can feel warm skin. 

After what feels like an age and much too soon, Veld pulls back and in the low light of the nearby street lamps, Vincent can see his swollen lips, and can't help but lean in again, stealing a quick kiss. Veld chuckles against his lips but pushes him back all the same.

"C'mon. We've still got work tomorrow. Another time." And yes, maybe this isn't the kind of friendship Vincent had envisioned, but he'll take what he can get, as Veld takes him by the hand, tugging him back out onto the street. He lets go of his hand as soon as they're out in the public eye, but Vincent catches the look that Veld shoots him, and smiles in turn. 

"I'll hold you to that." 


End file.
